Things just got worse.

Tuesday 31st August was the day I got up for work - but ended up in A&E with severe stomach pains. This then lead to at least 3 days of fasting and slowly dying due to starvation. Then, at 12am, 5th September I was taken into theatre, shaking ridiculously and tears strolling down my face in the anaesthetic room. Don't know why because I'd done it 3 times before! Woke up half dead in Recovery without my voice. Then when given the option to eat, I couldn't. Mum collected me and brought me home 7th September, moaning about some rumours she heard about me. As if that's what I needed as soon as I come out of hospital. The next day she tells me the same news and has a go at me. So I write an angry letter and we make friends.

Since, I've had to stay in the house with just my mum and no one else. Fed up and stressed out. Mum comes home from work today in a shit mood and it all gets taken out on me. We end up rowing and I storm up to my room in tears and haven't been down since 3pm. It's now 7.20pm. I hate this. I'm desperate to move out...